The Monsters

The dead sheep lay across the road, its glazed eye reflecting the light from the car’s single headlamp. It lay in a small puddle of blood which was slowly being washed away by the light rain.

Two people stood over it, looking. He was in his forties, with a middle age paunch, his raincoat pulled up over his bold head. She was younger, with grey eyes, and fruitlessly held an old blanket over her hair.

“I said we shouldn’t have come out this far,” she said.

“Damn it, Rosy,” he said. “I know. But we couldn’t have stayed there. The city isn’t what it used to be. It ain’t safe.”

Rosy looked at the sheep.

“And this is?”

He shook his head and walked back to the car.

“Frederick? Frederick, please,” Rosy called after him, but he didn’t answer. He just climbed into the driver’s seat and tried the engine again. It turned over and failed.

“Shit.”

Rosy climbed into the passenger seat next to him. She dropped her blanket on the floor.

“I’m sorry,” she muttered into her lap. “I just don’t know what we’re going to do.”

“Damn it, Rosy,” he yelled, punching the steering wheel. “You think I do? But you knew we couldn’t stay there, not with everything going on. And when I found this, and it still worked, well, you said it was a sign.”

“Well, it ain’t working now. Maybe that’s a sign, too.”

“For fuck’s sake, what am I meant to do?” He lifted his hand as if to strike her, but froze.

There was a face at the window.

He was young, probably in his twenties. He wore a hoody against the rain and night chill, which left his pale face in deep shadow.

Rosy wound down the window.

“Hi,” she started, but Frederick leaned across her and cut her off.

“What the hell do you want?”

The man stared at him, lifting a mining lamp to his face. The flickering candle light revealed how pale his skin was, and his eyes, so grey they were almost white.

“I’m sorry to bother you,” he said. His voice was almost a whisper. “I thought you may need help?”

“Well, you were wrong,” Frederick spat back at him.

“Sorry,” the stranger replied. “My mistake.” He pulled his hood closer around him and walked away into the night.

“What did you do that for?” Rosy asked, rolling the window back up to stop the incoming rain.

“We don’t need any help.”

“Really? We’re lost, with no food and no where to stay. How exactly don’t we need him?”

“I just don’t trust these country folks. And what about the package?

“So? There’s only one of him and two of us. We know how to handle ourselves.”

Frederick sighed.

“Fine.” He opened his car door and leaned out. “Hey! Hey, stranger. We could do with some help after all.”

The man stopped in the road, and slowly walked back to the car. Rosy started to wind down the window again, but the man ignored her, opened the rear door and clambered onto the back seat. He pulled off his hoodie to reveal a freshly shaved head.

They sat in silence for a while as the rain bounced off the roof.

“So, what’s your name then?” Rosy said.

“Fait.”

“Fate?” Frederick laughed. “As in destiny and shit? So there is a reason that we bumped into you.”

Fait stared at him until he stopped laughing.

“I’m sure there is,” he said.

“Look, sorry about Frederick,” Rosy said. “He can be a bit rude sometimes. We don’t meet new people very often.”

“Who does nowadays?” Frederick added.

“Anyway,” she continued. “I’m…”

“Rosy,” Fait said. “I know. I heard you talking.”

“So you know our… our problem then?”

“Yes. Broken down, lost in an area you don’t know and…” he looked straight into Frederick’s eyes. “…distrustful of these country folk.”

Frederick swallowed deeply.

“Look, I didn’t mean that really. But we’ve just escaped the city and, well, if you’ve not been there recently, it’s… it’s just gone to shit.”

“He’s right,” Rosy added. “What’s not been burnt down, has been pillaged. There’s no control there whatsoever. We were lucky to find the motor and get out alive.”

“Yes,” Fait said. “Lucky.”

“Look,” Frederick said. “Are we going to sit here chatting or can you really help?”

“Oh, yes,” Fait said. “I almost forgot. Yes I can help. I’m heading back to the Commune. We have shelter, food, the essentials. You can come with.”

“And the car?”

“Leave it here. We don’t get many around here. Not anymore. But you may be lucky. There may be someone at the Commune who knows something about them.”

“That sounds good,” Rosy said, smiling at Fait. “It’ll be good to sleep in a real bed for a change. And eat something that wasn’t cold from a can. That’s if the villagers don’t mind.”

“Yes,” Fait said. “If.”

Frederick looked at them both and let out a sigh.

“Fine. Let’s go.”

He climbed out of the door back into the rain. Rosy stepped out with him.

“Thanks again for this,” she said. “You think we can come back here in the morning? I have a few bits in the car.”

“Why not get them now?”

“Oh,” she shrugged. “They’ll be fine here for the night. I can leave them.”

“Fair enough.”

Frederick finally emerged from the car with a backpack on his back and a buddle of stuff in his arms.

“So let’s go then,” he said, trying to smile.

“Sure,” Fait said. “But leave the gun.”

“What?”

“The gun. The one from the glove box. Leave it. There are no weapons at the Commune.”

“But, but what about protection?”

“We’ll manage.”

Frederick and Fait stared at each other across the car. Finally, Frederick caved.

“Shit,” he said. He unzipped the bag and pulled out a small pistol. He tossed it into the car and slammed the door shut.

“If we run into trouble,” Frederick said. “Don’t come crying to me.”

“Don’t worry. I know how to protect myself.” And with that he turned away and walked off into the woods.

“You think we should trust that?” Frederick said to Rosy, only half whispered.

“I don’t think we have much choice,” she spat back, and made off to follow Fait.

“Shit,” Frederick said to the empty road. Then followed the pair into the woods.

They walked about five miles into the trees, Fait weaving himself around bracken and ferns, avoiding the occasional animal set or stream. It was dryer under the canopy and warmer, so Frederick peeled off his raincoat and tied it around his waist. Rosy abandoned the blanket by an old oak. Fait carried on as if the weather made no difference to him.

“So, er, Fait?” Rosy said, after a long silence. “Where were you?”

“What?”

“Where were you when It happened? Me and Frederick were on the city outskirts.”

“Close then?”

“Close?” Frederick added. “Close doesn’t cut it. We were in the centre. And then I got a call. Business. So we headed out to the edge of the city and then, well…,” he stopped. Unable to finish.

“So, we were some of the lucky ones,” Rosy said. “So, what about you?”

“Me? I hadn’t even been born.”

“Really? So you never knew what it was like before?

“Nope,” Fait shook his head. “This is all I know.”

A sudden movement in the trees caused them to stop. Up ahead, two deep yellow eyes appeared through the bushes. Then their owner stepped into the open; a panther. Its fur was deep black, and its teeth were bared. It let out a deep growl.

“What the fuck is that?” Frederick said.

“Shh,” Fait whispered. “It can sense fear.”

“No shit,” Frederick continued. “Said we should have brought the gun.”

“Shut up. She’s obviously hungry. The only thing we can do is run for it.”

“We haven’t got a chance,” Rosy said.

“Maybe not,” Fait said. “But we’ve no choice. On the count of three. One…Two…”

Rosy was the first one to turn and run, before Fait finished his countdown. Fait recovered quickly and ran after her. Frederick came up the rear.

The three sprinted as fast as they can through the dense undergrowth, over fallen logs, through moss and weeds, their boots squelching through the mud. Nettles stung them as they ran, as twigs and branches scratched their hands and faces.

Neither Fait nor Rosy noticed Frederick getting slowly left behind. Until he was gone completely.

Rosy skidded to a stop. Fait almost ran into her.

“What are you waiting for?” he said.

“Frederick. We’ve lost Frederick.”

“He’s gone.”

“No,” she cried. “I can’t leave him.”

Almost in response, a scream pierced through the woods. It was a mix of fear, anger, and complete pain. It continued for what could have been a few seconds or a few minutes. Then it was cut off by deadly silence.

“Frederick?” Rosy cried into the woods. She started to run back the way they’d come, but Fait held her back.

“No Rosy,” he said. “It’s too late. We have to keep running.”

“Why? What’s the point?”

“Cause it’s more fun,” said a voice from behind a tree.

A woman stepped into the open. Her eyes were bright yellow, and her skin almost pure black. Blood dripped from around her lips, along her throat and down her naked body. She carried something in her hand that looked like a slab of meat.

“I do enjoy a good chase,” she said, stepping up close to Rosy. “It helps me build an appetite.” She took a bloody bite from the shank of meat, then tossed it into the undergrowth.

“What have you done to Frederick?” Rosy asked.

“Really?” The woman glared. “You really are that stupid?”

Rosy swallowed deeply.

“Fait,” she gasped. “You need to do something.”

“Oh, I am,” he said. “I’m watching.”

Rosy looked up at him, even more fearful than before. He shrugged back at her.

“Yes, Lonza is with me.” As he spoke, the black woman, Lonza, approached him and stroked his arm. She purred as she did so.

“So, can I have a bit of fun with her?” Lonza asked. “The male was a bit slow. And gristly.”

“No,” Fait said.

Rosy let out a deep sigh.

“Thank you,” she said.

“I mean, no” he said. “It’s my turn.”

He turned towards Rosy faster than she could see, and grabbed her by the throat. He then thrust her against the nearest tree and held her there.

“Please?” Rosy begged. “Why are you doing this?”

“Why?” he smiled. “You have the nerve to ask why?”

He shook his head. “Rosy. I know you.”

“No,” she begged. “You’re wrong. You must be thinking of someone else. Please?”

“No, Rosy. I’m thinking of you. I’m thinking of all the things you’ve done and cause to be done. I know why you left the city in such a rush, and why you weren’t there when It happened. I know every little dirty thought and evil secret that drips through the repulsion of your mind. And Rosy, you sicken me.”

He thrust her against the tree hard, her feet dangling uselessly off the floor.

“It…it…,” she struggled to get out her strangled words. “It was Frederick. It was his ideas, his schemes. I was just… just along for the ride.”

“See,” he smirked. “That just goes to show how sick you are. Frederick’s been dead less than two minutes and you’re ready to blame him for everything. To sell his soul up the river to protect your skinny hide. Well Rosy, I don’t believe you.”

“But it’s true.”

“Fuck no,” he yelled and dropped her on the floor. As she crumbled, he sat on top of her and leaned in close to her face. So close, their noses touched. He jabbed his finger into the side of her skull.

“Don’t you understand, Rosy? There’s not just you inside that filthy brain of your's. There’s someone else in their, too. I’m stuck crawling through the bile and vile and spew and blood of your thoughts and memories, and I hate it. I hate you.”

“But…”

“Don’t explain. Don’t try to justify yourself. Just don’t. I know all about you. And the package in the boot of the car.”

“But Frederick…”

“No. Frederick was nothing. We both know that he was just a prick after a bit of cunt. And that’s what you gave him.” He stood up to let her breath. “Scum.”

He kicked her, hard, in the side of the ribs.

“That’s enough,” Lonza said, grabbing hold of Fait. “We should just leave her and let the wildlife take care of her.”

“Fine,” Fait said.

They turned away, leaving Rosy lying prone on the ground. With their backs turned, Rosy slowly pulled a flick knife from her trouser pocket, and clicked it open.

She lunged at Fait, but after just a couple of feet, she froze in mid-air.

Fait turned and looked straight at her.

“No,” he said.

Rosy dropped the knife and screamed. She pulled her hands to her face and scratched away at her skin as if something is crawling inside her. Her face, neck, head darken and her skin turns to a light pink, then red then purple.

Blisters bubbled up on the surface, small at first, then growing bigger, popping with squirts of puss and blood. Her right eye burst open and melted down the side of her face. A deep bubbling rumbled through her head, until her skull shattered under the pressure and her brains boiled out, landing in a squelch on the floor.

“That’s so much better,” Fait says as Rosy’s lifeless body collapses to the floor. “I feel cleaner now.”

Lonza hugged him and laughs.

“Should we bury her?” she chuckles.

“No,” Fait smiles. “That would be too kind.”

They made their way back through the woods, stopping only once for Lonza to retrieve Frederick’s old raincoat. She wrapped it around her as they approached the car.

Fait opened the door, and pulled the keys from the ignition. He then walked round to the boot and popped it open.

Inside were two sacks. Fait grabbed the first and ripped it open. A young girl, blonde, aged around six, popped her head through. Her mouth was taped shut and her eyes wide open with fear.

Lonza ripped open the second sack, and a young boy revealed himself. His hair and features matched those of his older sister.

“Are they still here?” he whispered in fear.

“Don’t worry,” Lonza said, slowly stroking his face. “The monsters have gone.”

She lifted the boy into her arms, as Fait helped the girl from the car.

And together, they headed back to the Commune.